


Left your mark on me

by rhackhoe



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angel is Rhys' best friend, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and Rhys falls in love with her asshole dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhackhoe/pseuds/rhackhoe
Summary: Rhys finds himself becoming increasingly entangled in the life of his best friend’s unfairly hot dad.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel and Rhys end up stranded at the bar late one night and the only person around to pick them up is Angel's hot dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I’m very new to this so please be gentle with me, I’m fragile lol. That being said, I really do love and appreciate your feedback. This chapter didn’t really come out exactly how I wanted and I’m a little insecure about how I write drunk characters, but I am excited about this idea and want to move forward, so here she is. Also this is unbetaed btw so sorry if there are any mistakes.

It was three in the morning when the bar closed, and between the two of them, Angel and Rhys had less than five dollars. 

Taking a taxi or an uber was out of the question and they’ve already tried calling all four of their friends, none of whom had answered. 

“Who else do we even know?” Rhys asked, hanging up halfway through Vaughn’s voicemail message. 

“I mean, my dad lives like five minutes away… Guess we could always walk to his house,” Angel said, although she didn’t sound all that thrilled about the prospect. 

“You think he’s still awake?” 

Angel shrugged, “Prob’ly not, but it doesn’t matter. I have a key.” 

Rhys frowned, “Why don’t you just call him?” 

“No way,” Angel shook her head, “‘M too drunk to deal with him.” 

“But you’re sober enough to walk allllll the way to his house?” Rhys asked, skeptically. “Jus call him, maybe he can pick us up.” 

“Even if he _ does _ agree to come to get us, he’s going to be such a huge dick about it,” Angel told him. “You don’t even know.”

“Well it’s not really like we have any other option.” 

“I still say we should just walk to his house. It’ll be faster anyways,” she insisted. 

“Yeah maybe, if we don’t get run over first,” Rhys said, sarcastically. “Just call him!” 

“Please don’t make me,” Angel begged. “I can’t deal with his shit right now.” 

“_ Fine _, I’ll do it,” Rhys said, holding out his hand to her. “Jus gimme the phone.” 

Angel glared at him, but she brought up her dad’s contact and handed it over. Rhys nervously cleared his throat, before hitting the call button.

Angel’s dad picked up on the fourth ring and he sounded pretty pissed. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Uh, yeah, hi, sorry Mr. Lawrence,” Rhys babbled, like an idiot. “Who the hell are you?” he snapped back. If he wasn’t pissed before, he sure as hell was now. 

“I’m Rhys. Angel’s friend.”

“Friend, huh? She never mentioned any Rice,” he said, sounding doubtful. “Where is she, anyway?” 

“She’s standing right here next to me. Say hi, Angel,” Rhys prompted, holding out the phone to her. She ignored him, swatting the phone away. 

Rhys put the phone back up to his ear. “We, uh, we’re actually at the bar right now…,” he continued. “And we - well, we kind of need a ride.” 

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I only wish I was,” Rhys said. 

It was quiet for a moment, then he heard Mr. Lawrence sigh. “Okay, Rice, why don’t you go ahead and send me your location,” he said, then promptly hung up. 

“It’s _ Rhys _,” Rhys mumbled to the dial tone. Angel looked at him, expectantly, “So?” 

“He called me _ Rice _,” Rhys pouted. Angel rolled her eyes at him. “Who cares? Is he coming?” 

“Well, he said to send him your location so I’m pretty sure that he is,” Rhys told her. 

“_ Great _,” Angel said, flatly. She sat down on the edge of the sidewalk, patting the spot next to her for Rhys to come sit. “We’re probably going to be here awhile. Might as well sit.” 

Rhys frowned, “I thought you said that he lived five minutes away.” 

“He does, but it usually takes him about an hour to leave the house,” Angel said. “Told you it would be faster to walk.” 

“Seriously?” Rhys groaned, reluctantly taking a seat beside her on the sidewalk. She shrugged, “Yeah, he’s a douche.”

“Totally,” Rhys nodded in agreement. Angel gave him a look. “You’re only agreeing with me because he called you Rice, aren't you?” 

“It isn’t even a name!”

  


**::: **

  


It was well after four when a white Tesla pulled up next to them. 

Rhys could hear it coming from all the way down the street. Between the continuous revving of the engine and obnoxiously loud classic rock blaring, it was impossible not to. 

The passenger side window rolled down. “Get in, Rice Cakes,” Mr. Lawrence barked. 

“I could, uh, use a hand,” Rhys said, weakly, gesturing to Angel, who was unconscious and slumped against his shoulder. 

He scoffed, “Come on, stringbean, are you really that weak? She weighs like ninety pounds.” 

Angel was right. He _ was _ kind of a dick. Part of Rhys thought she might just be pretending to be asleep so that she wouldn’t have to deal with her father. He couldn’t really blame her if she was. 

Finally the driver’s side door opened and out stepped Mr. Lawrence. It was a good thing that Rhys hadn’t tried to carry Angel on his own because he would’ve dropped her as soon as he took one good look at the man standing before him. 

The first thing he noticed was how well-built Angel’s father was, with muscular arms and thick thighs that he could definitely crush Rhys to death with. He was a little shorter than Rhys, but Rhys couldn’t help but feel small as the man loomed over him, larger than life. 

It wasn’t until he took another step closer that Rhys was able to get a good look at this face, the streetlights illuminating his dark, chiseled features. 

To call him handsome would be an understatement. He looked like he had been sculpted from marble. 

His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, with a few loose strands falling into his piercing heterochromatic eyes, one blue and one green. 

He had warm sun-kissed skin and a faint white scar in the shape of an upside down ‘V’ painted across his face. It started on his left side, just barely missing the corner of his blue eye, and curved all the way up over the bridge of his nose and back down the right side of his face, straight through his green eye. 

Rhys wasn’t sure how long he had been staring, but it must’ve been pretty obvious, because the older man gave him a dirty look. “What the hell are you staring at, kid?” 

Rhys quickly looked away in embarrassment, hoping that it was dark enough he couldn’t see the blush creeping up his cheeks. 

Thankfully he didn’t say anything else about it, effortlessly scooping Angel up into his arms in one swift motion. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and open the door for me, Rice Krispies?” 

Rhys frowned, opening his mouth to tell him that his name isn’t fucking _ Rice _, when he noticed that the doors to the backseats opened upwards. . 

“Holy shit,” he said, unable to contain his excitement. “You have a Delorean!” 

Mr. Lawrence stared at him blankly, like he was an idiot. “What the fuck is a Delorean?” 

“Yanno the car from _ Back to the Future _,” Rhys said, like it was obvious.

“Never seen it,” he said, dismissively. “You’re such a nerd.” 

“You’re in the minority here, okay? Everyone’s seen it. It’s a classic,” Rhys said. 

Mr. Lawrence rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say, Rice n beans. Now open the door for me, would ya?” 

Rhys went to open the door for him, but his depth perception must’ve been more impaired than he realized, because he overshot and the door ended up swinging out and hitting him right in the face. 

He staggered and clutched at his face, more in shock than in pain, before he fell back and his ass hit the concrete. 

It didn’t hurt that bad actually, given he was pretty numb from all the alcohol, but he knew that he was going to be in a world of pain once he started to sober up. 

It took him a moment to notice that Mr. Lawrence was laughing at him. He even thought he heard Angel giggling from the backseat. 

Either he was right and she was faking being asleep the whole time, or the sound of the car door colliding with his face was loud enough to wake her up. 

Mr. Lawrence was still cracking up. “Holy shit, kid, that was hilarious. You should’ve seen your face,” he laughed, dramatically wiping the tears from his eyes. 

Rhys glared up at him, unamused. He could already feel a dull ache in his head beginning to bloom. 

“Aw, come on, kiddo, don’t look at me like that,” he said. “It was fucking funny.” _ Kiddo _. Well at least he hadn’t called him Rice. 

Finally once he’d stopped laughed, much to Rhys’ surprise, Angel’s dad extended a very large hand to him to help him up. 

Rhys hadn’t realized he was shaking until he reached out to take the older man’s strong, calloused hand. He pulled Rhys to his feet with ease. 

Once he was standing again, Rhys’ head began to swim and his legs trembled like they were made of jello. He couldn’t tell if it was from being drunk, being hit on the head, or the fact that he was standing so close to Mr. Lawrence. 

Mr. Lawrence still hadn’t let go of Rhys’ hand. He was looking closely at Rhys, almost like he was examining him. 

“Jesus, kid, you look like you’re about to pass out,” he said, after a moment. “Am I gonna have to carry you to the car, too?” 

“No, m’fine,” Rhys insisted, pulling away from him, which was a big mistake because he immediately collapsed into his big, muscular arms. 

“Yeah, bullshit, you’re fine, stupid,” Mr. Lawrence said, grabbing Rhys by the waist with his enormous fucking hands and holding him steady. 

Rhys continued to stare up at him, dopey and wide-eyed, unable to say anything at all. He might as well have been drooling. 

He felt hot all over with the older man standing so close to him. Not just that, he was the only thing holding him upright and he was staring intently at him. 

Then he started to laugh again, and this time Rhys could actually feel the rumble in his chest when he laughed. 

Then suddenly he was serious again. “Okay, Rice, enough fucking around,” he said. “Now do you think that you can manage to get into the car yourself or do I have to do it for you?” 

Rhys was fairly certain that he would’ve been able to make it a whole two steps on his own, but his drunken self was completely shameless and he wasn’t ready for the older man to let go of him yet. 

“Would you mind?” Rhys asked, sheepishly, swaying on his feet a little. 

If he wasn’t drunk and mildly injured, he would’ve been ashamed of how desperate and pathetic he sounded, but in his current state, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Mr. Lawrence rolled his eyes, “Unbelievable.” 

Then without a warning, he hoisted Rhys up in his arms and carried him over to the car, thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He used his free hand to open the passenger side door and then helped Rhys down into the seat before letting go and slamming the door behind him. 

The music was still blasting through the speakers, Rhys reached out to lower to volume but Mr. Lawrence was already in the driver’s seat. 

“Don’t touch that,” he scolded, swatting Rhys’ hand away. “But my head hurts,” Rhys complained, rubbing at his head for emphasis. 

“Well maybe you should have thought of that before you rammed your head into my car door,” Mr. Lawrence said, putting the car in drive and immediately slamming his foot on the gas. 

Rhys pouted at him, but he wasn’t paying attention, eyes focused on the road. “I didn’t _ mean _ to!” Rhys insisted. “I could have a concussion, y’know.” 

“You don’t have a fucking concussion,” he said, dismissively. “Oh yeah, how d’you even know?” Rhys said. “It’s not like you bothered to check.” 

“Check _ what, _Rice? Do I look like a friggin doctor to you? You’re fine, it’s just a bump.” 

“It’s _ Reeee-se _,” Rhys finally decided to correct him, dragging it out for emphasis. 

“_ Reeee-se _?” Mr. Lawrence laughed. “Like Reese’s Pieces?” 

“No, _ not _ like Reese’s Pieces,” Rhys said, glaring at him. “R - H - Y - S.” 

“_ Rhys _?” he repeated, mockingly. “Hah, that’s stupid.” 

“Oh yeah, well what’s _ your _ stupid name?” Rhys asked, continuing to glare at him. 

“None of your damn business.”

“Wow, Angel wasn’t kidding when she said you were a _ douche _,” Rhys said. 

He expected Mr. Lawrence to yell at him for calling him a douche, but instead he just rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah, no shit, cupcake.” 

Neither of them said anything for a minute. “But you know something,” Mr. Lawrence started. He seemed to have decided that he was going to take offense to Rhys’ comment after all. 

“I could’ve hung up the phone and gone back to bed,” he went on. “But I didn’t, did I? No, I drove all the way over here to pick up my daughter and her loser boyfriend - .”

“Whoa,” Rhys quickly cut him off. “I am _ not _ her boyfriend!” 

“Whatever you say, kid.”

“I’m seriousssss. We’re _ friends _.” 

“Then what are you doing alone with her at four in the morning?” 

“M’not alone with her,” Rhys insisted, giving Jack what he hoped was a flirty smile. “You’re here, Mr. Lawrence.” 

Mr. Lawrence turned to Rhys and briefly sized him up, then he looked him straight in the face. “Jack,” he said, simply, maintaining eye contact with Rhys. 

“What?” Rhys asked, stupidly. He felt paralyzed under the older man’s gaze. 

“You can call me Jack,” he said. “But just don’t go getting any ideas, okay? 

“Ideas about what?”

“Don’t play dumb, kitten. You’ve been throwing yourself at me this whole time,” Jack said, and Rhys’ felt his face burning. “You know, at first I thought you were just trying to get in good with me because you were dating my daughter, but I should’ve known better. You’re too much of a pretty boy.” 

Rhys blushed even harder, looking down at his lap. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Listen kid, I was just making an observation. Obviously you know you’re pretty,” Jack said. “Don’t cream your pants.” 

Rhys smiled to himself, unable to pretend Jack’s words didn’t fill him with warm pride. He thought Rhys was pretty. 

“Don’t think I don’t see you blushing over there,” Jack teased. “I’m not blushing,” Rhys lied. 

“Sure you’re not.” 

When Rhys glanced back over at Jack, his eyes were on the road again. He had one enormous hand on the wheel and the other rested on his thigh, drumming his fingers against it. 

There was a bit of black ink just below his wrist peeking out from under his sleeve. It would be so easy for Rhys to just reach over and touch it. He wanted to so badly. 

After a moment, he made up his mind. He couldn’t resist, the temptation was too much for him. Hesitantly, he reached over and traced it gently with his fingertips. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” 

Jack looked over at Rhys incredulously, watching as he touched the ink for a moment before smacking his hand away. “Okay, you see, this is exactly what I was talking about. Hands to yourself, dum dum,” he scolded. 

He had slowed down a little and Rhys realized they had made it to the rich part of the neighborhood. All of the houses in this development were practically mansions.

“This is where you live?” Rhys asked, impressed. Jack looked smug, “Yep.” 

At the end of the street there was a cul-de-sac with an obnoxiously long uphill driveway that led all the way up to a ridiculously huge house. 

“You live here alone?” Rhys asked him once they made it all the way to the top. There were a few other flashy sports cars parked there on the side, but given Jack’s style, he assumed that they all belonged to him. 

When he turned back to look at Jack, he was already standing in the driveway, carrying Angel. 

“C’mon Rhysie, let’s move,” Jack ordered, banging on the passenger side window. “I don’t care how hard you hit your head, I’m not carrying you again.” 

Rhys sighed. He was comfortable in the car seat and he didn’t feel like moving, but he also didn’t feel like being yelled at by Jack again. So he reluctantly got out of the car, being deliberately slow about it. 

He took one look at the stairs leading up to the front door and then looked back at Jack. 

“We can go through the garage,” Jack said, leading him towards the big white door. He pressed his thumb on the keypad and the door rolled open, revealing yet another flashy, expensive car. 

“How many cars do you have?” Rhys asked, a bit judgmentally. “Enough with the questions, sweet cheeks,” Jack said. “Just keep walkin’.” 

Rhys did as he was told, following Jack through the garage, into the basement, and very slowly upstairs to what seemed to be Angel’s childhood room. 

He watched Jack lower Angel onto the bed and tuck her in. Rhys felt his heart flutter a little at the sight of Jack taking care of his daughter. It was the first time all night that Jack had done something sweet. 

He turned to Rhys. “Before you go to bed, come downstairs with me for a minute. I have something for you.”

Rhys stared back at him, wide-eyed. He thought maybe he had misheard the older man. 

Had he really just said that he wanted Rhys to come downstairs with him so that he could give him something? What could Jack possibly have for him? 

Maybe it was just wishful thinking but it sounded like the start of a bad porno. 

This time he was much faster to clumsily follow Jack downstairs and into the kitchen that looked like it was straight out a home appliance catalogue. 

“Take a seat,” Jack said, gesturing to the bar stools lined up against the kitchen counter. 

Rhys sat, propping his elbows up on the counter and resting his chin against his palms. He looked up at Jack through his lashes, trying his best to look seductive. 

“So what did you have for me?” Rhys asked, playfully. “Hang on a second,” Jack said, rummaging around the fridge.

After a minute, Jack walked over and dropped what appeared to be giant steak wrapped in parchment paper onto the counter with a loud thud. 

_ What the fuck? _ Rhys frowned, looking up at him. “What is this?” 

“It’s a ribeye,” Jack said, like it was obvious and Rhys was an idiot. 

“Oh,” Rhys blinked, trying his best to hide his disappointment. Of course it was a fucking steak. Rhys wasn’t really stupid enough to think that Jack was going to hook up with his daughter’s best friend, was he? 

“Well thanks…,” Rhys said. “But I’m not really hungry.” Jack rolled his eyes. “It’s for your face, idiot.” 

“Oh,” Rhys blushed. It wasn’t what he had expected, or hoped for, but it was something. It was actually kind of sweet. 

He didn’t _ have _ to give Rhys anything for his head. Rhys hadn’t even asked him for it, but Jack had given it to him anyway. It was small, practically nothing, but it made Rhys warm inside to know that a tiny part of Jack actually might care. 

“Thanks, Jack,” Rhys said, beaming up at him. 

“Yeah whatever,” Jack said, quickly brushing him off. “I was just tired of hearing you bitch about your ‘concussion’. And make sure you put it back in the freezer when you’re done. I wanna make it for dinner tomorrow. Anyway, I’m going to bed. See you around, Rice Cakes.” 

And just like that, he disappeared upstairs leaving Rhys alone and oddly aroused, with a dull throb in his head and a fucking ten pound frozen steak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully that wasn’t too bad, let me know what you think! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning Rhys is sober and far less impressed with Jack and his attitude, which infuriates Jack and he makes it his mission to win back Rhys' favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry that this definitely isn’t good or long enough for the embarrassingly long time it took me to finish it but I hope you get some enjoyment from it!!! Thank you so much for all your kind words and encouraging comments. Also this is unbetaed so if there are any mistakes, feel free to let me know. I really appreciate it. <3

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Jack greeted Angel when she entered the kitchen, briefly looking up from his phone before going back to reading emails. 

She only grunted in response, walking right past him and heading straight for the coffee maker. She had changed out of her clothes from the night before and into her work uniform, but she still looked pretty disheveled. 

“You want me to make you something for breakfast?” Jack asked, as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Angel laughed, “Yeah, right.” Jack looked up from his phone, offended. “Hey, I can cook, you know.” 

“Really?” Angel sounded doubtful. “Because growing up, you never once offered to make me breakfast.” 

“That’s because I paid someone a lot of money to cook all of my meals for me. Cooking myself would just be a waste of money.” 

“Yeah, and what happened to your personal chef?” she asked, taking an accusatory tone. 

“Eh, you know,” he shrugged, turning his attention back to his phone. “He wasn’t really working out.” 

“He quit because you’re a huge dick?” Angel assumed correctly. “Pretty much,” Jack said. “So is that a no to breakfast?” 

“I can’t, I have to go to work,” Angel finished off her coffee, putting the mug in the sink. “But hey, uh, thanks for coming to get us last night. That was really cool of you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I was doing anything at three in the morning,” Jack said. 

“Oh, and if you bump into Rhys, please don’t be an asshole,” she said, on her way out. “Bye, dad.” And like that, she was gone. 

He sighed, thinking of Rhys. The kid would probably be awake any minute now and Jack would be forced to interact with him. He was mostly dreading it because Rhys had been an annoying little shit last night. But he was also dreading it because annoying little shit or not, the kid was fucking hot. 

Not just hot, he was actually fucking gorgeous and Jack strongly resented him for it. Who the hell gave him the right to walk around like that? It just wasn’t fair. He checked all of Jack’s boxes. Long legs, great hair, pouty lips, and high cheekbones. He was perfect, and Jack couldn’t have him. What he wouldn’t give to destroy that juicy little ass. 

But Rhys was off limits. He had to be. Sure, Jack was an asshole, but he couldn’t fuck his daughter’s best friend. Angel would be furious. It’s not like they were on the best of terms to begin with. Sleeping with Rhys would be the nail in the coffin and Angel would probably never speak to her father again. 

So no matter how much Rhys tempted him, he had to stay strong. It probably wouldn’t be easy if it was anything like last night. Rhys was flirting with Jack pretty aggressively and Jack only had so much self control.

He was only human after all. 

:::

Rhys didn’t take long to end up downstairs. There was a noticeable bruise on his forehead, immediately overshadowed by his outfit, which consisted of tight pink booty shorts, an oversized yellow sweater, and obnoxiously patterned knee high socks. Wait, that was Jack’s sweater. He had been too distracted by Rhys’ perky little ass in those shorts to notice at first, but that was definitely his sweater. 

“Is that my sweater?” Jack asked, narrowing his eyes. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I, uh- I got cold,” Rhys said, sheepishly. “I’ll give it back if you want.” 

“Don’t worry about it, stringbean,” Jack assured him. “You can keep it. I have plenty of them.” 

“Oh, okay,” Rhys looked surprised. “Well, thanks.” 

“You want some breakfast before you go?” Jack asked. 

Rhys thought about it for a moment. “Sure,” he decided. “I have to say, you’re much nicer this morning.” Jack frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

“Well, I was pretty drunk last night," Rhys said. "But if I recall correctly, you were kind of a dick.” Jack shrugged, “Yeah, well what can I say? I’m kind of a dick. I didn’t hear you complaining about it then.” It was Rhys’ turn to frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing, cupcake. It’s just interesting that the only thing you remember about last night is me being a mean asshole when you were throwing yourself at me pretty hard,” Jack said, smugly. “I seem to recall you swooning in my arms.”

Rhys’ face turned red. “I was not ‘all over you’,” he insisted, defensively. “And I wasn’t swooning, I was just drunk.” 

“Whatever you say, Rice,” Jack said, not buying it. Rhys wanted him. He was sure of it. 

:::

After breakfast, however, he was feeling a little less sure of it. 

In the light of day, Rhys’ mood towards Jack had completely changed. He hadn’t been flirty or suggestive all morning. He seemed almost indifferent to Jack. 

He knew that he should be relieved. It was much easier to resist the temptation to pin the kid against the wall and have his way with him when he wasn’t throwing himself at Jack. But somehow this was even more unbearable. The fact that Rhys was paying him no mind only made Jack want him that much more. 

He had been pulling out the stops all throughout breakfast. He was striking the perfect balance between showing off his extravagant wealth, recounting times he heroically saved the day, and bragging about being the CEO of a billion dollar industry. The kid should be worshipping him already, but he remained thoroughly unimpressed by everything Jack was throwing at him. 

“Okay, what gives,” Jack finally snapped, growing tired of the whole playing hard to get shtick. Rhys frowned, “What do you mean?” 

“I guess last night was pretty embarrassing for you, huh? I mean, the way you were throwing yourself at me - it was kind of cute, you know, in a pathetic way,” Jack said, causing Rhys to frown. “But this whole playing hard to get bullshit is anything but cute, princess. I see right through your little act.” 

“I’m not playing anything, okay?” Rhys said, started to get annoyed. “I told you, I was really drunk last night. And you know, just because you’re rich and attractive, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re my best friend’s father. And even if you weren’t, you’re not my type.”

Jack laughed, “Now you’re just straight up lying, sweetheart. I’m everyone’s type.” 

“Well unless everyone is suddenly into rude narcissistic jerks, I highly doubt that.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Like I care what some dumb kid thinks.” 

“Clearly you do because you’ve been showing off all morning.”

Jack scoffed, “Oh yeah, big words coming from the guy who needed me to carry him into the car last night.” 

“I hit my head!” Rhys said, defensively. “Yeah, I know. I watched it happen,” Jack reminded him. “I have to say it was pretty hilarious.” 

“Do you really have to?” 

“Don’t be such a baby about it,” Jack said. “It’s only funny because of how dumb you looked when the door hit you in the face.” Rhys pushed back his chair and stood up to leave. “Okay, I‘m gonna go now."

"Oh my god, you're such a little bitch," Jack rolled his eyes. "You're really gonna leave just because I made fun of you a couple times?"

Rhys ignored him, "Thanks for the ride and the breakfast, if you can even really call it that, because clearly you have never touched a stove in your life - .”

“Didn’t you just say you were leaving?” 

“I am,” Rhys said, flatly. “I just wanted you to know that your cooking is really bad and I did not enjoy it.” 

“And I don’t care because your opinion means nothing to me,” Jack insisted. 

“If that were really true, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to seem impressive.” 

Jack glared at him. “I don’t have to try to seem impressive, and oh my god, are you ever going to leave?” 

Rhys softened, looking almost bashful. “Yeah, well the thing is, it’s just - I don’t really have a ride or any money…”.

Jack narrowed his eyebrows, “Are you seriously asking me to drive you home right now?” 

“Would you?” Rhys asked, looking at Jack expectantly. 

Jack considered it. He knew that he could just give him money for an uber and be done with it, but he figured that he might as well milk it for all he could. “Only if you admit you’re super into me,” Jack decided. 

Rhys scowled at him, “You know what, I’ll just walk home.”

“Whatever, kid. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Jack muttered. No way in hell he was going to chase after the fucking kid and beg him to let Jack give him a ride home. 

:::

Jack caught up with Rhys before he even made it out of the development. He ignored Jack for a while, walking in silence and refusing to even acknowledge Jack calling him or the loud Tesla riding right alongside him. It was unbelievable how much of an infuriating brat this kid was being right now. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with this bullshit, yet for some stupid reason, here he was, dealing with this bullshit.

“Listen sunshine, as much as I am enjoying the view, this whole silent treatment is getting old real fast,” Jack said, exasperated. “Would you please just get your ass in the car?” 

“Why? So you can kidnap me?” Rhys asked, finally acknowledging him. 

Jack rolled his eyes. “No, so I can take your ass home and we never have to see each other again.” Rhys shrugged, “Fine, whatever, take me home then,” he said, getting into the car. 

After that they drove in silence. Jack occasionally sneaking glances at Rhys, who hasn’t once looked up from his phone. He was probably texting Angel and talking all kinds of crazy shit about him. 

The stupid thing was Jack didn’t even want to never see Rhys again. There was something about the kid he was actually really drawn to. At first Jack thought Rhys was another dumb pretty adoring fanboy, but now that he wasn’t so drunk and stupid and flirty, he was actually pretty cool. More than just a pretty face after all. 

It wasn’t just because he was all over Jack one minute and seemingly uninterested the next, though that did drive him fucking crazy. It was because Rhys was soft and pretty, but he was also mouthy and sarcastic and he talked back to Jack, something that no one but Angel ever did. Jack liked someone who could put up a fight. He might very well be exactly what Jack has been looking for, but his pride came before all else, so he would never tell Rhys that. 

Unless of course Rhys came to him first. He was way too stubborn to put himself out there and risk looking desperate. No one was allowed to have that kind of power over him, especially not some dumb twink. 

So he kept his mouth shut and they continued to drive in silence until Rhys said, “You can pull over here.” Jack stopped, parking alongside the small apartment complex to their right. Finally Rhys made eye contact with Jack, actually turning to face him. “So thanks for the ride,” Rhys said. “Guess we never have to see each other again now.” 

His expression matched his tone, flat and neutral, but his eyes were saying something completely different right now. This kid was burning a hole right through Jack’s chest the way he was staring at him. He could tell that Rhys wanted to say something, wanted to drag this out for as long as he could, too. But like Jack, he was too stubborn, too scared, too something. 

So instead of saying whatever it was that he clearly wanted to say, Rhys got out of the car and Jack watched him walk away. 

Jack was definitely mad at himself for letting such a sweet piece of ass slip through his fingers, but he knew that it was for the best in the long run. The kid seemed pretty high maintenance anyway and Jack really only had so much patience. More importantly, it was one less reason for Angel to hate her father. 

But on the drive home, in spite of himself, he found his mind wandering, imagining the ways their paths might cross again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm @rhackhoe on twitter if you want to talk. Even if you hate this fic, you are valid and you can still follow me.


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